Don't Go
by little-linds
Summary: Takes place after A Night Without Stars. God asks Joan to skip school.


**A/N: **This is one of my "episode fics" (a fic that I write similar to how an actual show would go--I have more of these that I'm working on, including my version of Season 3). This takes place after "A Night Without Stars". I actually wrote it before I saw the episodes that followed, so it is kinda AU. It's not the best, as I wrote this originally in a script format (which explains the abundence of dialogue and lack of descriptives) and later turned it into a story format. Also, I hope that the scene with Joan and her father and what happens is believable. I had a difficult time with that and it just doesn't seem to work. I don't know much about chemistry either, so if something doesn't make sense or is not correct, sorry about that. Please read and review! Thanks!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Joan of Arcadia or anything related to it (although if I did, I would make sure it was still on TV). I am not profiting from this either.

"The exam tomorrow will include chapters 10, 11, and 12," Ms. Litchsak's voice boomed through the classroom. Grace, Adam and Joan sat in the back, none of which were paying attention to their teacher. Grace's head rested on her arm, eyes half closed. Joan scribbled stick figures in her margins. Adam furiously wrote in his notebook.

Ms. Litchsak asked a question, something about an atom or a molecule, something that Joan didn't care about because she was trying to read what Adam was writing. "Anyone? Anyone besides Luke?" the teacher asked, eyeing Luke as he shook his hand in the air, almost in a standing position.

Adam's hand slowly rose and Joan and Grace stared in disbelief as he answered the question correctly.

"What?" Adam whispered, obviously not seeing anything wrong with what he had just done. Luckily, he didn't have to explain himself because the bell rang and the students dashed out of the classroom.

"Exams are stupid. It's just another meaningless grade that only shows you memorized what is in the book. It is not a real indicator of how well you actually know the material," Grace said as she opened her locker and stuffed her books in her bag.

"Maybe we should study tonight." Joan's statement was more of a question and was directed at Adam more than Grace.

"Uh...I've got plans. Sorry," Adam said quickly.

"Oh, hey, that's cool." Joan tried to act as though it didn't matter to her, but it did. She missed Adam.

"Alright, well, I gotta go," Adam said already halfway down the hall.

"Girardi, I think we need to do something about Rove. He's acting stranger than usual. Ever since he started..._whatever_...with Iris." Joan simply looked at her friend, hoping that she wouldn't be able to see how she winced at the sound of her name. "Don't tell me you haven't noticed, answering questions in class. He's been wearing cologne!"

"I _haven't_ really noticed," Joan said nonchalantly as she shut her locker.

"Yeah. Right," Grace took off to her next class, leaving Joan. She leaned the back of her head against her locker and sighed.

Helen sat at the kitchen table grading papers as Will walked in and kissed her on the forehead. He sat down in a chair next to her.

"So, how was your day?" Helen asked.

"Well, I don't think sitting behind a desk doing paperwork is what I had in mind when I decided to go into police work."

"Yeah, but things will all work out. I think it's great that you decided to just take a break."

"It really wasn't my choice."

"Yeah, I know."

"Where's everyone? It's quiet," Will asked.

"Luke is studying. Joan got called into work and Kevin is with Rebecca."

"Good," Will said smiling, while leaning in for another kiss.

The bookstore was quiet. Joan sat behind the counter, her chemistry book open to chapter 11. The owner walked up to Joan.

"Okay, I'll be back in a few hours. Please don't touch anything."

"No problem. I've got to study anyway," she retorted, yelling over the chime of the bells as he walked out the door.

"Man, chemistry is so boring," she whispered to herself. Joan looked around the front desk for something more interesting to read. Her hand brushed over a copy of "To Kill a Mockingbird", it was the only book that was assigned to her that she actually finished.

"Joan, studying is good for the mind. If you don't use it, you lose it.," a small voice said. The voice came from a petite woman barely reaching 5 feet tall. Her long hair was pulled back in a ponytail and pulled her cheekbones higher than they should be. Joan had never seen her before, but recognized who she was right away.

"You scared the crap out of me!" Joan exclaimed. The woman smiled and her cheekbones were pushed even higher. "Let me guess, it'll help me learn to think differently," she asked.

"Chemistry is not only about atoms and molecules. It is about how the presence of one thing can change everything. Think of water. 2 parts hydrogen 1 part oxygen. Add one more part oxygen and you get Hydrogen Peroxide, which your mom used to clean some of your scrapes when you were younger, but in high concentrations can be used as a rocket propellant. Without that extra oxygen, it's just water, with it, it can do great things. It becomes a catalyst, just like you. Without you, numerous other outcomes could happen. With you, and me guiding you, great things can happen."

"So, what are you _really _getting at?" Joan placed her hands on her hips and stared.

"I want you to skip school tomorrow."

Shocked, Joan's mouth dropped. "Are you serious? Of course you are. For your information, I have a chemistry test tomorrow, I can't miss it. Besides weren't you the one who told me to apply myself?"

"Joan, don't worry about that. Things have a funny way of working themselves out. Anyway, you could use a break."

"So, what you want me to fake sick or something?"

The woman smiled at Joan. "Whatever you have to do," she said as she walked away flicking her hand into the air.

"There's no way I'm gonna get away with this," Joan said under her breath.

Luke sat at his desk, his chemistry book open to chapter 11. He had been studying for hours, even missed dinner to finish the chapter on stoichiometry. His stomach was catching up with him and growled. He put his ruler on the page he left off on and walked down the stairs.

In the kitchen, Helen was still grading papers. "Hey hun, how's the studying going?" she asked.

"Good, I guess," Luke could barely manage out before a knock on the door was heard. "I'll get it."

Luke opened the door and attempted to hide his disbelief.

"Um, so is Joan here?" Grace asked.

"Actually, she got called into work."

"Okay," Grace said, turning to leave.

"W-wait, do you need something?" he asked.

"I just wanted to ask her some questions."

"Oh. Well, I'm studying right now if you'd like to accompany me," Luke stammered.

Grace stood there for a minute contemplating his offer. "Okay, but don't get any ides!" She walked into the house.

Helen sat in bed reading as Will walked in. "Did I just see a girl go in Luke's room?" Will asked pointing to the hallway.

"Yes, that's Grace, Joan's friend."

Will's eyebrows furrowed as he shook his head. "Oookay. Do you ever get the feeling that every day that goes by, the less we know our children?"

"I think it's normal for teenagers," she assured him. "How are you?"

"That is about the 8th time you've asked me that today."

"I know," Helen said taking her reading glasses off and setting them on the nightstand next to her.

"What are you reading?" Will slid closer to her and looked over her shoulder.

"And that is about the 8th time you've dodged that question," she retorted.

"I know," he said mimicking her. Helen frowned at him. He couldn't resist those eyes; the eyes that looked at him with such compassion and love. "I'm doing okay, promise." He kissed her forehead and picked up a magazine from his nightstand and began to read. Helen's frown didn't disappear.

Luke's room was not a typical teenager's room. There was a poster of the atomic chart on his wall, next to a diagram of the earth displaying all of its layers. Luke and Grace were sitting on the floor, their books and notes sprawled around them. Luke was rambling about chemistry while Grace was staring into space.

"There are five major classifications of chemical reactions: Isomerization, Direct combination, Chemical decomposition, single displacement and double displacement." Luke rambled, trailing off at the end of the sentence when he noticed Grace's apathy. "Isomerization," he continued, "is when a compound undergoes a structural rearrangement without any change..."

"In its net atomic composition," Grace finished.

"I thought you needed help with this?" he asked, bewildered.

"I said I had questions, not that I need help." She still looked away.

"Well, if you don't have questions about chemistry, what do you have questions about?"

"Nothing," She said flatly. "I gotta go." Grace stood, taking her notes with her and hurried out of Luke's room as Luke sat there, in awe of what just happened.

Joan was sitting at the desk in the bookstore re-reading To Kill a Mockingbird, when she heard the chime of the bells, signaling the opening of the front door and hopefully her boss to relieve her of her duties.

"I told you everything would be fine," she said without looking up.

"Hey Jane," Adam said.

"Oh, Adam, I thought you were my boss," Joan said straightening herself. There was a slight awkward pause. "So I thought you had plans tonight?"

"I do. I'm just waiting for Iris to get done babysitting, so I thought I'd see what you were up to," Adam explained.

"How did you know I would be here?"

"I asked your mom, she said you were called in." There was another awkward silence, yet this one was longer.

"So, To Kill a Mockingbird, huh?" Adam said, making small talk.

"Yeah, it's the only book that was assigned that I've ever finished." She laughed. Joan's smile faded with the growing silence and awkwardness between them.

Joan noticed a small sculpture in his hand. "What's that," she said pointing to it.

"Oh, this. It's for Iris," he explained. Joan looked upset and turned her back to him as to not show her feelings. She always felt as though his sculptures belonged to her and knowing that he was giving her one, made her uneasy.

"Well, I probably should get back to work."

"Jane, are you mad at me?" he asked. The question that he had been thinking about was now out in the open and could not be taken back.

"No," Joan said folding her arms, but not meeting his gaze. "I mean, it just seems that this whole Iris thing has kinda been, I don't know, changing you."

Adam's face scrunched. "What is this _really_ about?"

"You answered a question in Chem today. You've been wearing cologne!" Joan said counting on her fingers.

"This isn't about me wearing cologne," he said almost in a whisper.

"Yes it is," she said matter-of-factly. "You made her a sculpture." Her voice cracked as she pointed to the twisted metal in his hands.

"You don't like Iris."

Taken aback by his blatant tone Joan stammered. "It's not that. It's…"

"You just don't like it that I have someone else to hang out with. That I'm happy!" he said.

Joan fought back the tears and channeled it to anger. "How can you say that?" she demanded.

"Jane, you aren't the only person I can hang out with! You aren't my only friend! It doesn't always have to be you, me and Grace!" Adam could see the hurt on her face. He stormed out of the bookstore, not because he was angry, but because he couldn't believe what he had just said, and he couldn't stand to look at her knowing that he was the one who made her upset.

The kitchen in the mornings at the Girardi house was always somewhat chaotic. Everyone seemed to collide with each other, but this morning only Luke and Helen were in the kitchen. Will had left early for work, along with Kevin, and Joan was not present.

"Luke, will you wake your sister? She's going to be late," Helen asked.

"Already tried. She says she's sick and she's not going."

Helen walked up the stairs to her daughter's room and poked her head in.

"Joan? Are you okay?"

"No, I don't feel good," a muffled response came from under the covers.

"This has nothing to do with your chemistry exam, does it? Or...Adam?"

"No, I've got a headache and my throat feels icky."

"Alright, do you need anything before I leave?" Helen asked, being motherly.

"No."

Helen shut the door and Joan threw the covers off her face, sighing. "That was easier than I thought it would be," she whispered to herself, clearly amused.

Joan sat in front of the television on the living room couch, the remote control in her hands.

"There is nothing on! Ooh, Dr. Phil will be on in 15 minutes though," she said to herself. She continued flicking through the channels and briefly stopped on an infomercial. It was for some sort of chemical cleaner that promised to take out even the worst stains. The king of all chemical cleaners. The announcer wore a very bright red sweater with a collared shirt underneath and spoke loudly telling how the product worked while the audience "ooohed" and "aaahed".

"What am I doing watching this? I'm skipping school; I should be at the mall or at the beach doing something teenager-ish," Joan thought.

"Joan, pay attention," the announcer with the bright red sweater said. Joan glared at the TV. "Don't leave home. I asked you to skip school, but not so you can go to the mall. You _could _be studying for chemistry."

"Studying? I don't even know if I'll get to take the test now, since _you_ made me skip!" she exclaimed.

"Joan, we've gone over this. I don't _make_ you do anything," God said. "But, with that said, maybe you should talk with your dad."

Joan looked bewildered, "Why?"

"Don't let him leave," God said, and the TV suddenly switched to Dr. Phil. Joan tried to change it back, but the informercial was gone.

Adam walked into the art room where Mrs. Girardi was organizing the painting supplies.

"Mrs. Girardi, can I talk to you?" he asked.

"Of course Adam, what's up?"

"So Joan's gone today?" Adam picked up one of the paint bottles and began picking the paint off the side.

"Yeah, she's home sick," she said, pulling out the paint brushes and rinsing them out in the sink.

"Oh." His voice was low.

She looked at him and smiled. "She'll be fine." Her tone told Adam that she wasn't talking about her being ill. "Just give her time." Helen walked over to her desk and pulled something out of the drawer. "I've been meaning to give this to you," she said, handing him a picture of him and Joan. They were in the hallway of the school, their arms around each other. It was taken just a few weeks ago, right after him and Joan became friends again. Both of them were beaming. "One of the photographers for the yearbook gave it to me to give it to you or Joan. It's going to be in the yearbook," she explained.

Adam stared at the picture.

Lunch was somewhat awkward for Grace with Joan gone. Adam and Iris sat across the table from her whispering to each other. She glared at Iris, partly for coming between her and Adam and partly for Joan.

"Oh Adam, will you walk me to the art room so I can pick up my portfolio?" Iris asked in her squeeky voice.

"Yeah, sure," he said unsure of if he really wanted to. "See ya Grace."

"Yeah, okay," she said. Adam and Iris walked out of the cafeteria as Luke walked in and sat down across from Grace.

"So, how do you feel about this test?" he asked, not knowing what else to say.

"Fine. I don't really care," she said. Luke looked at her and furrowed his brows. "What?" she asked.

"Nothing," he said pausing and then continued, "You just don't seem to really care about anything."

Grace looked hurt, muttered a whatever and stomped out of the cafeteria.

Joan's cooking skills were less than mediocre. Her specialtly has always been Macaroni and Cheese, but since she couldn't find any in the cupboard, she opted for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

"Peanut butter and jelly?" Will asked walking in the door.

"Yeah," she answered.

"You're in luck. I brought some chinese for us." Will pulled out a chair for Joan and sat down in the chair next to it.

"How did you know I was home?" she asked.

"Mom told me," he said, taking a bite of his noodles.

"How are you doing?"

"You sound like your mother." Joan had the same worried look on her face as her mother had the night before. "I'm okay," he said as his cell phone rang, interrupting them.

"Hello?" he said into the phone. "Yeah, I'll get down there right away." Will closed his phone and started to get up.

"No, Dad, don't leave," she said, reaching her hands to his shoulder to push him back down.

"Joan, I've got to go. It's an emergency."

"But Dad, oh no." She grasped her stomach and her mouth. "I think I'm going to puke." Will led his daughter into the bathroom as she knelt down by the toilet. He pulled her hair away from her face and held it back ever so gently.

"Your mom didn't say anything about you having the stomach flu," he said.

"I just started feeling pukey," She stared into the bowl.

After a few minutes of Joan kneeling by the toilet and nothing coming out Will felt as though he could leave. "Honey, I've really got to go now."

"No Dad, don't go." Joan's words were laced with tears. At first they were fake, but now, once she thought of what God said about keeping her dad at home, they were out of fear.

"Joan, what's going on?" he asked, concerned. Joan stood up and turned around to her father. She wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed. "Hey, Joan, you're scaring me," he said, brushing her hair with his hand.

"I just don't want you to leave right now," she said, her words muffled in his shoulder. She cried harder, thinking about what might happen if she let him leave.

"Okay. It's okay," he assured her. "I won't go." His cell phone rang again and he let go of Joan to answer it. She looked at him, worried. "I'm just going to see what is going on," he explained.

"This is Chief Girardi," he said. "Yeah, yeah, okay. Oh my God. I'll be down there as soon as I can," he said while looking at Joan.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"There was a hostage situation downtown. I was going to try to negotiate before you got sick. They waited for me but had the opportunity to get the hostage out. The capture ended up blowing up the building," he said in awe.

"Is everyone okay?"

"Yeah, but I guess there wasn't a chance to make sure there weren't any bystanders. If it wasn't for you keeping me here, I probably would have been in that building,"he explained. Will pulled his daughter in for another hug.

Luke was sprawled out on the floor of his room again with his chemistry notes. His head rested on his hand as he wrote down the answers to the self-test at the end of chapter 12. There was a knock at the door . "Joan, I'm _not_ letting you borrow my notes!" he yelled through the door. Suddenly, it flew open and Grace walked in, furious.

"Why did you say I don't care about anything?" she demanded looking at him with angry eyes. He knew better than to determine her emotion by her eyes. She had gotten so accustomed to being angry, they no longer showed her true feelings.

"Uh, hi Grace," he said. She stared blankly at him and crossed her arms. "I don't know. I mean, you are so closed off to everyone, I guess."

"Well, you are wrong. I do care! I care about your sister, I care about Adam, I care about my family, I care about...you!" Grace pointed at Luke, his mouth agape. "Just because I don't go around telling people that all the time, doesn't mean I don't care!"

"Okay," he finally edged in. "I didn't mean anything by it." She was now forcing back tears. There was silence. "Maybe you _should _tell people once in awhile." Luke's voice was small and soothing. Grace looked away from him for a second and sat down.

"Let's see how well I know this stuff," she said, shuffling through his notes. He stared at her and managed an "okay". He knew that she wasn't ready to actually let him in, but also knew that there wouldn't be much time before she would be.

Joan sat on her bed, her chemistry book open. It was getting late and she was not in the mood to study. She flicked through the TV and stopped on the chemical cleaner infomercial. The announcer was demonstrating how it miraculously gets out grass stains.

"God?" she asked. The announcer continued with his speech. "Fine, don't answer me. I just wanted to say thanks."

"Joan, sometimes you can't always see how you are affecting people," the announcer said.

"Yeah, but I saw it this time. I mean, if I wouldn't have been home and kept my father here, would he have died in the explosion?"

"There are so many factors, Joan, it's impossible to say for sure. All we can do is give a little nudge in the right direction." Joan simply stared at the TV. "Think of it this way, Sodium Hydroxide and Hydrochloric Acid are both very potent and harmful compounds," the announcer said, holding up test tubes with the chemicals. "When you dissolve the right amounts of each together," he mixed the two together in a beaker, "the Hydrogen from one and the Oxygen and Hydrogen from the other, form water. The base and acid nuetralize leaving only salt." He held up the beaker with the water and salt in it. "When you are present in a certain situation, you can nuetralize the outcome."

"That's a lot of pressure and responsibility for one person. What if I don't 'give' just the right amount and it all backfires!" she cried.

"Joan, you've done great things so far. You've taken so many harmful situations and turned them into something good. Don't underestimate yourself," he said and the television channel changed. She hated that He always left right when she thought her questions would be answered.

She grabbed her Chemistry book and began studying as she heard a knock on the door. She threw her book on the floor and climbed under her covers. The knock continued. "Come in," she said, making her voice raspy. Adam opened the door slightly and poked his head in.

"Hey Jane," he said. Joan was surprised and slid herself upright.

"Hey Adam," she said. He lingered at the door. "You can come in."

"Oh, right." He walked into the room. "So this is your room." He walked around looking at pictures and knick-knacks on her dresser. She whispered a yeah and started picking at her fingernails.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, sitting on her bed. He reached his hand up and gently touched her forehead. She closed her eyes to his touch. "You feel a little warm."

"I'm feeling better," she said. She frowned and looked back at her fingernails. "Well, I probably should study."

"The chemistry exam was cancelled, apparently Ms. Litchask is sick too. But she'll probably be back tomorrow," Adam said.

"Luke told me."

"Right. Okay," he said and stood up to leave. "I'll see you tomorrow." He stopped at the door and turned around. "No, I came here for a reason," he said, walking back to the bed. He sat down next to Joan again and looked at her in the eyes, the eyes that always looked at him like they knew something that other's didn't.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you the other night. I guess, I'm just a little confused. I didn't mean what I said. I mean, you _aren't_ my only friend...but you _are_ my best friend." Joan looked at him through tears.

"I made this for you," he pulled something out of his bag and handed it to her. It was a bunch of wire and metal twisted into a picture frame. It framed the picture that Helen had given him earlier that day. Joan took it gently and stared at the gift. She smiled.

"Well, it's getting late, I should go," he said and headed for the door.

"You're mine too," Joan said quickly. Adam turned and smiled before walking out into the hallway and closing her door.


End file.
